


defeat

by WattStalf



Series: it's just piss [47]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Desperation, Gen, Omorashi, Wetting, male omorashi, sorry this is kinda bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 10:46:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6800584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WattStalf/pseuds/WattStalf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Civil War. Tony's flight home is made worse by his growing desperation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	defeat

**Author's Note:**

> This story is really bad cos my mind was super duper fucking scattered while I worked on it, so forgive me. Also it wasn't supposed to turn out angsty, but damn it, Tony made me feel things I didnt want to feel. This idea was suggested by OMOWatcher, and I hope it wasn't a huge fucking disappointment cos I feel like it was garbage.  
> 

Tony wanted to say that he'd had worse days in his time, but he wasn't really sure if that were true. Enough shit had gone down that it wasn't even remotely possible to look on the bright side, and all he wanted was to get home. He didn't know what he would do when he got there; he didn't know what he would do at all from here, but if he could just get home, he felt like that would be some progress.

It didn't help that, somewhere along the line, he noticed a nagging sensation in his lower abdomen, one that normally wouldn't be a problem, but it was today. His suit was trashed all to hell and he couldn't even get out of it, much less filter anything, so the fact that he needed to piss would have to wait. It wasn't so bad, anyway, and he had other things to think about and process, so that could take the backseat.

Except it was pretty bad, and the other things he had to think about were things that he really didn't want to think about, now or ever, which meant that his growing need was really all he could think about. He had been so distracted by everything else that he wasn't sure when the need had cropped up, but it must have been a while ago for it to be this bad, and he wished he'd thought about it back when his goddamn suit was fully functional. There was a dull ache in his bladder that made him groan softly, and he knew that this flight was going to be way longer than he was prepared to deal with.

At the very least, he could sit in peace, and afford the jerky motions he knew he would soon be plagued with. Christ, he just wanted to go home. Of course, he couldn't sit still, and he jiggled one knee, crossing his arms and wondering how the fuck he was going to last this long. He didn't have any way to remove the suit, but he knew he would need to cross his legs eventually, and his suit didn't allow much freedom for that kind of movement. Sighing, he knew that he would just have to do without, no matter how impossible holding seemed in that case.

Was there anything else he could think about to take his mind off of this, besides all of the things that he was trying so hard not to? But everything felt so insignificant that even if he tried to focus on it, he felt stupid for worrying about anything other than his current problems. What a fucking predicament; couldn't think about what was really going on because it hurt too much, couldn't think about anything else because it made him feel petty, and he had to piss _so fucking badly_ that he would have given anything for something else to think about.

He was fighting a losing battle, and now he realized that he was jiggling both his legs and he huffed and felt his face flush, and he didn't want to give in to his own desperation, but  _fuck_ , it was getting so bad. His bladder ached and he bit down on his lip, telling himself again and again that it was fine, that he was fine, that everything was going to be just fine. Even though nothing else in his life was fine,  _this_ was fine and he was going to make it home, and if he made it home, that would be one thing that had gone right for him.

But it was a long ride, and that long ride felt even longer with the throbbing in his lower stomach, and he squirmed as much as he could afford to, stuck inside the suit like he was. Whimpering, Tony clenched his fists and stared out the window. It wouldn't be long until he was back now, but just as he began to feel relieved because of that, he remembered the fact that he would have to wait until his suit was manually removed, and that would take a while too.

He groaned and leaned his head back, fighting back actual, honest-to-god tears that were threatening to spill now. This was so fucking ridiculous, such a minor inconvenience after everything, but it was too much and it was enough to be the final thing that broke him. All he wanted was to make it until he got home and to make until he got out of his suit, but he didn't know if he'd be able to and that was going to be too much for him.

By the time he actually did make it back, he could hardly even walk, staggering both from his injuries and from the fact that he was nearing his limit.

But he was almost there! He was almost there and he just had to wait until he could get out of his suit. Maybe this really was going to turn out fine, maybe he did have this one thing under control, and maybe he could hold just long enough to avoid the disastrous outcome he had all but accepted was coming. Or maybe his hopes were completely in vain, as every step he took jostled him enough to cause small spurts to escape, until he knew his pants had to be damp.

He wasn't going to make it and he had known that from the beginning. Any attempts to hold it, any attempts to convince himself he was fine, had all been completely futile, and it was honestly a miracle he had lasted this long. Perhaps if he had had the ability to cross his legs and grab at himself, he might have made it, but that was out of the question and he was at his limit, and even though he wanted to keep fighting, he knew it was hopeless.

Letting out one last groan, he relaxed himself completely, giving up on holding back and losing himself for a moment in the sheer relief. He had been so painfully full that it went on for nearly a full minute, his pants soaking through as the warm liquid ran down his legs and pooled around his feet. The mess was contained for now, but he'd have to clean his suit once it was off, and a puddle would be made as it was removed.

The tears from earlier returned, and this time, he let them fall. He had, in truth, been fighting them for much longer, since way before he had even realized that how desperate he was, but pissing himself had been what it took to bring them out because they brought back a memory, one that had been completely buried until now because it had been so small and one that he had tried very much to forget at the time.

But it was one with his mother, and he had been crying then, and just about as wet as he was now. He was young and he'd gotten distracted and not realized he needed the bathroom in time, and he was terrified of what his father would say if he found out. His attempts to hide it were less than successful, but his mother hadn't been angry at him, and had instead helped him clean up and kept his secret.

She wasn't around to do that now and he really knew why and it was all too much for him to really process. All he had wanted was to make it back without incident, but he hadn't even been able to do that and his mother would never be around to make it better, but he still needed her so much. He knew he needed to get out of his suit and cleaned up, but all he could really do was sit down and cry, and he didn't care how fucking pathetic he looked. It had been a long time coming, and as his shoulders shook, he wondered how long it would take for the tears to stop.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote Tony pissing himself again, big surprise.


End file.
